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He couldn’t waste a breath. With one final, hopeful glance back at the hill, comfortable that Ludya was still occupied, he launched onto the road and ran so fast, his feet barely touched the ground between strides.
Tyr slowed as the earth descended into a muddy embankment, at the bottom of which was a small arch. Angling sideways, he allowed himself to slide, arms out for balance, and came to a tumbling halt at the bottom. His hands landed on either side of the narrow arch: an entrance. He could make out nothing beyond the darkness.
The only thing to do was step inside, so he did.
Tyr moved slowly down a slim stretch of earth. The path was barely wide enough for his feet, an abyss—how deep, he couldn’t see, nor was he interested in finding out—calling on either side. The cave walls glittered with crystals, catching light from an unseen source farther in. There were also drawings. Words. In Vjestikaan. The depictions, of men and wulves, seemed to tell the story of Vuk od Varem, but the glittering reflections and carvings, faded with time, rendered the tale incomplete.
The cave stories guided him deeper into the cavern. Further back in time they seemed to go, from before the Vjestik came to Witchwood Cross as refugees. He’d never heard those stories before. He wondered who had made the drawings, and why. Though paper was valuable, it still seemed an easier method of preserving histories.
Then again, he thought, who even knew the place existed?
Another few steps and he heard low, sonorous voices. It sounded like singing but was mournful and searching, a call to some deeper place existing within everyone. He felt suddenly, overwhelmingly sad, and the impulse to cry was so powerful, his eyes sprung with tears.
He came to a damn near devastating halt when one of the voices boomed, shaking the cave. Crystals shimmered and twinkled, creating a symphony that started and ended everywhere. “ANASTAZJA WYNTER, HEIR OF OUR KIND, SISTER OF ASH, BLOOD OF THE WULF, BELLE OF HER FATHER, PRIDE OF THE ANCESTORS. STEP. FORWARD. TWICE. STOP.”
Tyr held his arms out, wobbling for balance. He crouched to fend off vertigo before he stood again.
“YOU REQUESTED A COUNSEL WITH THE KYSCHUN, AND WE HAVE GRANTED IT.”
“Hvala! Hvala, hvala, hvala! I am weighted with a great burden, and I believe you are the only ones who can help me,” Ana cried out. Tyr recognized the wordhvala, as a form of gratitude. She sounded so small and insignificant amid whatever colossal creatures had announced her. Her voice trembled, a shrill edge peaking certain words. “I am utterly at your mercy, and pray the Ancestors show you my heart is true in intention.”
Fear pushed Tyr back to his feet, and he inched closer to the sounds, moving far faster than felt safe. Kyschun, kyschun. He didn’t know that word. He needed to knowthatword. What they were. Why Ana had thrown herself at their mercy, and why, despite knowing having none of those answers, he was petrified.
“YOUR INTENTION IS NOT OURS TO FACILITATE OR COMMAND.”
Tyr wobbled as dirt sifted down from the cave walls, set to a fresh song from the crystal chorus. His eyes stung but he pushed on, slower until he found surer footing.
“WE ARE NEITHER JUDGE NOR JURY. WE ARE KEEPERS. WE ALONE CHOOSE WHO MAY SHARE IN OUR TRUTHS. WHICH IS WHY WE WILL TELL YOU NOTHING TODAY, ANASTAZJA WYNTER.”
“I... I don’t understand!” Ana yelled. Tyr could barely hear her over the cave melee. “You invited me here!”
“YOU. WE INVITED YOU.” The voice didn’t speak again until the cave settled once more. “BUT YOU DID NOT COME ALONE.”
Tyr went shockingly still. He even held his breath.
“I did! I did come alone! My vedhma stayed outside. It’s only me here.”
“YOU WILL LEAVE US NOW.”
“No! Pros, I beg of you, there isno onewith me. I desperately need your help!”
“YOU WILL LEAVE ON YOUR OWN, OR YOU WILL BE REMOVED.”
“You don’t under—”
The cave shook harder than ever before. Ana screamed. Tyr clung to the edge of the walkway to avoid being thrown into the nether, but he had to get to her. He pulled himself along with one hand, then the other.
Tiny but forceful steps pounded, growing closer, and he looked up just in time to stop her from tripping over him and flying into the darkness.
“Tyreste?” Ana huffed his name. “What in the Ancestors are you doing here? How did you—” She whipped her head around. “You.They meantyou!”
“Come on, Ana, we have to go. Now.”
“No,youhave to go! I need them to talk to me! I need—” The cave shook so hard, she slipped and started to go over. Tyr yanked her arm and pulled her against him.
“Be angry with me later.” He panted and nudged her in front of him. “We have to get out of herenow.”
Ana shrugged his hand away when he tried to guide her. He stayed close, reaching for her every time the crystals sang, but she didn’t want his help. She pushed on until she disappeared back into the dusky night.
